The Next Generation
by vyruby
Summary: A compilation of chapters taking place several years after the Promised Day that begins with our beloved characters continuing on with their lives and with what they make of the new, clean slate given to them. The story will later follow the next generation: sons and daughters of Edward and Winry, Roy and Riza, Alphonse and May, and Ling and Lan Fan. (Rating M for future chapters.)
1. Chapter 1

**NEW BEGINNINGS**

Her cries reverberated around the room. The sounds of her pain was enough for him to want to reach into his own insides and rip them out. Gritting his teeth, Edward could only embrace the familiar feeling of hopelessness like an old, unwelcomed friend. For a moment, he was back in Rush Valley feeling like his younger self—a powerless fifteen year-old who could do nothing but wait. He now understood what it really meant of Satella's bloodcurdling screams back then and wondered how Ridel ever had the willpower not to rip his hair out from the suspense of it all. It felt like a lifetime ago from that stormy day, yet it remained a fresh memory as if it was solely for this moment of crisis and reflection.

Another of Winry's stifled scream was followed by a jolt of pain from his fingers. Edward winced. _If she keeps this up, she's going to break all my fingers._

"You sure you don't want to switch to my other hand?" Edward said with a nervous chuckle. He knew better than to make quips during these kinds of situations. As a confirmation to his regrettable remark, he instantly received a murderous look from his wife.

"Ed, you have _no _right to com-," her scowl was quickly replaced by another grimace of pain which, of course, came with another steel-death squeeze of his hand.

Winry's breaths increased in short pants as the delivery was near an end. Her eyes were shut closed as she dealt with the pain that was racking upon her body. Instinctively, Edward reached up to wipe away her blonde strands that stuck against her temples and forehead.

Edward's thoughts were wandering off again—perhaps it was his mind's defensive mechanism against the strong urge to go crazy from not being able to help Winry with her pain—and he couldn't help but think how beautiful his wife was. It didn't matter that her cheeks were blotched from efforts of the labor, or that her eyes were shadowed with exhaustion. It was, above all, the graceful strength she always carried around her that fueled Edward's own strength and courage every single day. It had been so easy to love her, like breathing in the summery air of their childhood days. He almost never said it out loud but, after all, their words were stronger in silence. As much as he loved her, he knew she loved him back. For Edward, that was more than enough or anything else he wanted in this world.

"Hey Winry," he said gently.

"What, Ed?"

Despite the sharp and impatient tone he noted in her voice, he felt a tug at the corners of his lips. "I love you, Winry." His eyes were upon hers, and he didn't care that there were others in the room.

As he had expected, it took her off-guard and the room fell only a bit quieter. Winry looked at her husband, tears gathering as she managed to give him a smile. Edward was hardly the sentimental type and everyone knew he was the kind of person to speak his affections through his actions. Heck, the last time he had said those exact words was probably on their wedding night. She could probably argue that this was another example of his terrible timing. Instead, she replied, "You idiot. I love you, too."

"Here it comes!" the doctor exclaimed. Soon, Winry's scream was joined by another kind of crying from a smaller set of lungs. "Congratulations, it's a girl!"

Pinako must have recognized and understood the expression upon Edward's face as she assisted with having the baby cleaned and bundled up. And before Edward could even register what was happening, the doctor called out, "Here comes the other one!"

Time seemed to have both sped up and slowed down as the doctor held up another baby for Pinako to attend to. Finally, Winry fell back upon the bed in relief and began to cry from exhaustion and happiness as the doctor announced the second baby was a boy.

"Edward," her voice brought her husband back to present and she motioned with a small, weak gesture of her hand. "I want to see them."

He hadn't realized that Pinako had placed them both into his arms. Of all the training and fighting he had ever done, nothing prepared him for this. Edward brought his gaze upon the two new faces and suddenly felt a swell in his chest made his entire body shake slightly. His limbs felt like jelly and, so suddenly, a wave of unexplainable emotions threatened to knock him off his feet.

He carefully joined Winry's side at the bed, his eyes glued upon their rosy faces. "They're so small," Edward said, though the last word came out more like a choke as a painful lump formed in his throat. He held them close to him, and as crazy as it probably sounded, he felt like the world was too big for them and the only thing to protect them was himself. _And that it exactly what I will do—I will protect you both_, he thought as he made the silent promise.

Winry smiled, bringing her eyes up from their babies to her husband. "It's okay to cry just this once, Edward. I won't tell anyone."

"Who says I need to cry?" he said after he let out a small cough in attempt to clear his throat. Though, when Edward met his wife's gaze, he didn't mind that she saw tears gathered at the corners of his eyes.

"Twins," Winry said, marveled. "Can you believe it?"

Edward shook his head, smiling; he didn't trust himself to speak as he felt another lump formed at the back of his throat. He had never thought that he could love a person so deeply and quickly as he did now—let alone for two. The memory of his mother came to him as he thought, _Al, I think this is what mom felt when she had us._

"They are so beautiful," Winry murmured, as she reached out to touch their daughter's hair. Both babies already had soft tufts of hair that shined like gold as the light from the window spilled into the room. "Now for their names," she said as she looked to Edward.

"Oh right," he said with blink. "We didn't really decide on it, did we?" Winry had gotten into labor earlier than they had expected and they had barely considered a handful of names only a week before.

"Hm," she paused to think, though her expression seemed to be saying that she already had it figured out. "I think I have the perfect ones for them," her lips pulled into her usual confident smile.

"Do you now?" Edward said with a quirk of a brow in curiosity. "Let's hear it."

"Welcome to the world," Winry said softly as she glanced down upon their baby daughter and son; leaning in to press her lips gently upon their brows, she whispered, "Erika Trisha Elric and Williem Urey Elric."

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_**A/N: **Hello all! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! I am roughly new to writing fanfiction and it has been a while since I have gotten back to writing in general so I may be a bit rusty... My brother and I have recently decided to re-watch the Brotherhood series and, as many of you can imagine, I can't stop thinking about it! I am absolutely in love with the plot development, the characters and all of their relationships, so I had to write about it. :-) What do you think so far? Ratings &amp; reviews are greatly appreciated!_


	2. Chapter 2

**SECOND CHANCES**

"Father?"

"What is it?" Roy glanced up from his paperwork to see his four-year old son standing at the doorway. In the small light of his desk lamp, he could faintly make out his son's expression, although he didn't need to see it to take a guess that Maes had been crying.

Roy patiently waited for an answer but only received sounds of sniffles, knowing well that his son was struggling to hold back the tears, let alone talk at all. Letting out a deep breath, Roy set down his pen and slid his chair away from his desk. "Come here, Maes."

Immediately, Maes went almost running to his father's arms as the tears flowed freely down his cheeks. Roy lifted him up easily and placed him upon his lap. Roy certainly had little to no affectionate instincts when it came to children, but he was at least grateful for the calming effect he had on his children when they sought for him. Some would have the nerve to joke and say that it may be a sense intimidation rather than a sense comfort that his children had towards him, but Roy would admittedly like to think of the latter.

When Maes' cries came down to hiccups, Roy finally said calmly, "Now tell me what is upsetting you."

"Elijah…he said that I'm named after a-a dead m-man," his voice became a wail upon the last word.

_What in the world am I going to do with that kid? _Roy thought of his eldest son as he pinched the bridge of his nose in slight exasperation. Briefly closing his eyes, he opened them again to meet his younger son's gaze. "That is true, Maes. But why on earth would you think it is a bad thing?"

The dark-haired boy blinked his dark eyes in a moment of confusion and thought, as if he had forgotten why he was crying in the first place. Looking at his son was strangely like looking into a mirror; Maes was undeniably a spitting image of himself—something anyone and everyone who saw him would constantly remind Roy, as if he didn't realize it enough.

"But…" Maes began as he reached up to wipe his nose with the back of his hand. "He said your best friend died and I'm just replacing him."

"Absolutely not," Roy replied, perhaps in a more curt tone than he had intended. At times such as these, he had to remind himself that he was speaking to his son and not his subordinates; the fact that this was a struggle for him only fueled his doubts of his qualifications in fatherhood. More often than not, he wondered if he was anywhere close to being a decent father. Hell, he never even had a proper father himself, so what did he know?

His features softened slightly as Roy continued, "Maes, you are named after a good man…a better man than I will ever be. I chose that name for you because I have hopes that you will do some good in this world as well."

"Think of it as a second chance for him," Roy said after a brief pause—he wondered if his son even understood half of what he was saying. "As long as you do the best you can to protect others around you, he will live on."

He hadn't realized his hand was balled into a fist until he felt his fingernails dug into his palm. Thinking of Maes was still painful for Roy and, to think of it, he never spoke about him to anyone besides Riza…and now his son. His brows furrowed slightly. What was he even doing, talking to his son about his dead best friend? He could only wager that normal conversations between a father and son involved less in death and more of toy trucks and pet lizards.

"Okay, father." Mae's small voice brought Roy back from his thoughts. Was that a sense of duty that he recognized in his son's voice already? He gave his son a small, sad smile. _I'm already putting a great burden upon my four-year old son. I must really be fucked up._

"But always remember that you are your own person, Maes; no labels, no name, and no one can change that. It is up to you what you make of your life."

"What if I mess up?" he asked after a moment of thought.

"Don't worry," Roy said as he placed a hand upon Maes' head. "There are always second chances." As the words fell from his lips, Roy wished deeply that they were true. At least for his son, they _had _to be true.

Roy let out another deep breath; he was exhausted. It seemed the more tired he was, the more solemn, despairing the thoughts were that floated around in his mind. By the time the tears dried on Maes' cheeks, a sound of distant crying pierced through all of Roy's thoughts and brought him back to focus.

"Sounds like you're not the only one awake at this hour," he said as he lowered Maes down from his lap. Roy rose from the chair, stretching his arms upwards. "Let's see what your sister needs so that your mother can get some rest."

Before the two of them went to the nursery, Roy stopped by the bedroom to see Riza stirring in her sleep. "I'll see to her, Riza," he said to his wife, in which she gratefully lowered herself back into the plush comfort of their bed. Roy reached out to close the door behind him but paused to leave a small crack open, allowing the light in the hallway to sneak into the darkness of the bedroom. He couldn't help but peer in once more, noticing the curve of his wife's body underneath the blanket and watching the soft rise and fall of her breathing.

They both had gone through different kinds of Hell the months and even years immediately following the Promised Day. Drastic changes had shaken the nation and everyone in it to their cores. Despite it all, Roy couldn't be grateful enough to have Riza by his side, now in more ways than one. She may not be his subordinate anymore, but he was willing to bet his life that she still had his back no matter the situation.

There was never a moment that Roy and Riza had not worked hard to improve the nation, whether it involved military reformation within Amestris or political and economic affairs with Ishval. And as if they hadn't lost enough hours of sleep already due to their work, Roy had more or less decided to take a young orphaned Ishvalan boy—Elijah, now his and Riza's oldest son—under his care during one fateful visit to the country only a few years ago. Following after Elijah were two more children that took up the rest of their hours in the day, though Roy never once felt rueful of his and Riza's choices.

"Father," Maes tugged at his father's hand, bringing Roy back to the present yet again. "Little sister is still crying…"

"Yes, you're right, Maes," he replied as they moved on from the bedroom to the nursery. Upon entering, he switched on the light to see his daughter pink and flustered in her crib from all the laborious noise she was making. "Quiet now, my little Robin," he said, not bothering to cloak the exhaustion in his voice.

He reached down to lift her up from the crib; as he did so, her loud cries subsided to mewls and gurgles. Clearly, hunger wasn't the issue as she had quietened instantly upon her father's embrace. "I guess you don't really like being alone, do you?" he said quietly as he gently rubbed his daughter's back. The shoulder of his shirt quickly dampened from her drooling mouth but Roy was far from caring anymore of his appearance.

"I want to say hi to her, too," Maes said, his little hands reaching up. Roy silently complied, lowering down to rest his weight on his heels so that Maes could see Robin. Like every other time before, Maes gazed at his sister with wide-eyed wonder.

"Hello Robbie," he whispered to the already sleeping infant. He reached out to softly stroke her cheek before saying, "Father, she has her thumb in her mouth."

"Well, I suppose that's what babies do. I believe you also did that at her age."

"She's so tiny."

"You were once that tiny."

"Well, I'm going to protect her. That's a good thing to do, right, father?"

"Yes, it is. I know you or Elijah won't let her down."

Roy watched Maes struggle to stifle a yawn. Glancing at the clock, he straightened up to place his daughter back into the crib. "Let's go, Maes. It's bedtime for you and me both." He could almost hear the empty bed space next to Riza calling out for him.

By the time Roy walked Maes back to his room and brought him to bed, he noticed a distant look upon his son's face.

"What is it, Maes?"

"Father...can we visit his grave tomorrow?"

Roy faltered for only a second before replying, "Yes." He reached out to ruffle Maes' hair. "Elijah might like that, too. And your mother would probably be pleased if we take the dogs out for a walk as well."

"Okay," Maes smiled widely. "Goodnight, father."

"Goodnight, Maes."

As his son closed his eyes and fell peacefully asleep, Roy remained by his bed for only a moment longer. Watching his son sleep, Roy couldn't help but also think of Elijah and Robin. _Those three__ are _my _second chances…how did I ever gotten so lucky? The world must really have turned a blind eye for this one time. Hell if I deserve it but... for once, what a relief._

Walking back to his bedroom to join his wife, Roy thought over of his words to his son earlier. If a man like himself—someone who has caused so much suffering and death that no matter how much he tried to rebuild the nation, he cannot redeem himself in his own eyes—is allowed a second chance, then _surely_ an innocent life such as his son deserves the same hope.

_Wouldn't you agree, Hughes?_

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**A/N: **Ah! Another chapter done—I hope you liked it! I have to confess (although I don't think it will come as a surprise to many...) that I have a very special spot in my heart for Roy Mustang. I believe he is just one of those incredibly well-developed, very real character that many of us can empathize with or at least admire. I'm very excited to move forward and allow you all to thoroughly meet his and Riza's children (as well as the other characters' children, of course)! Or more specifically, meet my interpretations of what their children would be like. Please review? I would be just over the moon to hear what you all think of this so far!


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